logsinthenight | 'CAUSE I'M BROKEN

Entry tags:

'CAUSE I'M BROKEN

characters: Remington, Matt, Quentin, Coraline, Aziraphale, Jason Grace, Wanda, and OPEN to anyone!
location: the church
date/time: Throughout September, following the announcement of the church’s desecration.
content: Everyone’s working together to get the church back in order!
warnings: N/A

[Entering the church, you’ll see that Remington is already assessing all the damage firsthand. As he moves around, he places damages pieces of furniture in groups depending on what appears to be their level of damage: minor, moderate, and major. There’s plenty of head-scratching, of course, and if you’re carrying any supplies, he gestures to one area he seems to have set up as a makeshift tool bench.]

Hey, um, hi! Thanks for coming. This is really a mess, isn’t it? So it’s…kind of all hands on deck at the moment. Let me know if you have any questions or need help getting started.

[He’ll advise anyone who needs direction based on their expressed skill level or areas of expertise from anything to sorting through debris to determine what is or isn’t usable in its current state, to minor fixes, to marking items that need complete reconstruction.]

Don’t throw out anything; I already know what I want to do with any leftover scraps. Just put them all in that empty crate over there.

[He must’ve managed to commandeer one from the general store.]

((OOC: Feel free to make your own toplevels! I’ll be placing my own for Remington, so it can be handwaved that he’s already given your character a task if they need one to get themselves started.))

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[ eliot's here mostly to help with sorting. kinesis makes quick work of it after all. also he's bored, and q came, and he can't leave q alone for too long without bad shit happening for whatever reason.

since there is a lot to sort through though, for once he's not really finding every excuse to chat, almost like he hasn't had the chance to stretch his muscles properly in a while and really wants to do it (which is exactly the case). he does well in making nice neat piles for others though, like tetris but with debris. he has three main sets going on, unusable, repurposable, and reusable, the latter two free for others to pick through. but again, it's debris tetris, so maybe you should ask him for help if you find a particular piece wedged in an inconvenient place. or if you want to debate his tetris decisions.

alternatively, he'll boldly offer at the start to hold things in place for people if they need a hand. he is tall after all. but really the magician part helps the most.

and yes, he did come to help in a tie and vest. thank you for noticing. ]

Edited 2019-09-18 05:36 (UTC)

[Yes, finally. Something tangible to sink his magic in to and to just focus on, that isn't going to feel as unsatisfactory as punching a pillow repeatedly. Research on this place was going nowhere, and not fast, because those books the librarian had provided were huge. Well, some of them.

But this, rebuilding something. Getting to mend things, that would be actually useful to people (and maybe to that spirit that apparently lived in the basement). That was a idea he would get behind, and after getting the task of starting the fixing in the far west corner, Quentin starts sorting through the rubble. Sitting crossed-legged on what's left of the floor and in a little cleared circle, he starts sorting through everything near, placing it in neat piles depending on what the piece tells him it wants to be.]

Edited 2019-09-18 08:14 (UTC)

[Overlooking one of the piles Eliot has managed to make, Quentin let's his hand hover just above it - feeling it out, trying to find that one specific piece that he's missing from his own pile further inside the ruined church.]

Do you have a door knob somewhere? Like, did you see one?

[ Aziraphale is here to help in any way he can, and often brings whatever he's been trying to cook to share with all the volunteers, though it quickly becomes apparent that he's not very good at cooking.

He is, however, somehow extremely good with repairs, apparently. Anyone who passes him anything broken will get it handed back about ten minutes later, with some vague and slightly incoherent rambling about how oh it just needed a little sanding or yes just putting this over there did the trick, have to get back, but it's fixed, excellent, goodbye for now!

Usually there since early morning, he tries to find a little time alone to cast minor miracles-- splinters smoothed away, slightly crooked bench straightened, inexperienced carpentry or masonry from the day before still riddled with character but structurally very sound. They're little things that, perhaps over a night's rest, anyone might naturally assumed they'd misremembered in a worse state when they'd left off previously. Nothing that couldn't be explained by magic. Maybe a helpful Klabautermann, perhaps even the appreciative watchful gaze of God Herself.

With his sleeves rolled up, he brushes sweat off his brow and outside on the lawn, he continues repairing the decorative altar. ]

Yes, what do you think so far?

[ He's... well, he's managed to place a bunch of broken pieces together. ]

[ OOC: Feel free to come up with your own scenario or hmu at

assemble for a personal starter. Aziraphale will be here during the entire rebuild/restoration unless he is off doing an expedition. ]

Edited 2019-09-18 13:24 (UTC)

[ eliot glances to q then back to the piles. he flicks his wrist upward, gesturing with two fingers. a broken door knob snaps toward him from the unusable pile, stopping short a couple feet. ]

This one?

[Letting his hand hover over it for a few seconds, fingers twitching through a small tut, Quentin shakes his head.]

I think that one might be for one of the east facing doors? It really likes sunrises. But it should kind of look like that, only-- it should want to look at, uhm, the pews?

[ he raises a brow (bored), nods slowly, and flicks his wrist back forward again. the knob flies back to where it had been before, and eliot turns slightly to flick his wrist upward again. this time he pulls out a just as damaged knob from the debris, but caked in detritus. that's kind of more pew-y right? ]

This one?

[More slow hand-waving and fingers twisted together in a complex pattern before Quentin shakes his head.]

No. Try that one- over there, under the--uhm, is that part of a window?

[ indeed it is. eliot sends the second selection back under debris despite having pulled it out already. he can deal with it later. he beckons quentin's choice, from the repurposing pile. it's got a hefty crack through the knob's bulb. ]

Something tells me your mend isn't actually going to be able to handle that without a little wood glue.

[ on closer inspection, the crack is from a combination of age and irreversible heat damage. ]

Edited 2019-09-18 15:38 (UTC)

[ At some point during her own task of sweeping up the place, she notices the displays of magic the two are doing and just sort of… moseys on over. Because it’s really, really cool seeing such casual displays of powers around here. Like, doing this shit with tuts too? Fucking neato. Would like, a dancer specializing in finger tutting be better at it? She has so many questions. Also, hearing them talk about the objects as if there’s a life to them is… familiar. A weird and unexpected piece of home.

In short, she’s just kind of standing there and staring at them. ]

Please. [It's a snorting laugh before he tests the next door knob with magic, hands moving and then he eyes Eliot and raises an eyebrow.]

I'm actually pretty good at mending things? Wood glue, El? No. But... that's not the right one either. Try giving me that one, over there? No, not that one. That other one?

[ he gives a short laugh, shaking his head and replacing the knob. q's defensiveness isn't at all surprising. same as the demand for the next.

"that" one is vague though. so just to be a shit, he picks the one he's pretty sure q meant when he said "not that one". it does a loop in the air before pausing in front of q. ]

This one?

[Yeah, Quentin is rolling his eyes so hard at that.] Show off. No, not that one, You know the one-- it's like right over there.

[Because, god, just how many different knob can there possibly be in this pile- and just a little look around shows piles all over the church, everyone working carefully through different ones. Well, the ones who can't do what Eliot does, that is.]

Just give it to me, okay?

[ oh, q. there are so many knobs everywhere. you just have to know what you're looking for.

he can't help the pleased huff as he sets it back, again with a loop, the corners of his lips quirking upward. ]

Jesus, Q. You're sure picky about what kind of knobs you like. [ wink wonk

he plucks out the one q actually gestured to this time. it looks decent enough. probably even correct. maybe. but instead of giving it to q as he demands, eliot brings it toward himself and takes it from the air, keeping it in his possession. ]

I don't know, Q. This one doesn't look right either. [ he says it dryly because at this point it's more about making q walk over and try to take it than anything else. ]

Are you stealing my knob right now?

[And there's really nothing for it, but to walk over because there's just no way anything Quentin can cast even passingly well could get it carefully out of Eliot's hands.

Fucker.

Who knows all about this.

Eyes narrowed and hand out, he stops just in front of Eliot.]

I'm very picky and I want that one. So. Hand it over, Waugh.

Guess I am. How about that?

[ he chuckles, waiting as quentin steps over. ]

If you want it so bad, then just take it, Coldwater. [ he holds it up, not offering it to q and clearly more than ready to just pull his hand away the second quentin reaches for it. ]

Is that-- you are stealing my knob. I need that! Come on!

[Two quick steps forward that brings Quentin right up in Eliot's face, crowding against him and he reaches for the knob with one hand, completely expecting Eliot to just pull it up and away.]

Give it!

[ of course he pulls it up and away. because that's the whole point.

eliot laughts. ]

I'm sorry. What was that, Quentin? I don't think I heard the magic word!

Avada Kedavra.

[All the way up on his toes, and there's still no way he can reach, hand braced against Eliot's shoulder to get just that tiny inch higher--]

Using your height against me? Alright.

[And Quentin pokes Eliot right in the side, just below the edge of his ribs.] Give it to me.

[ he laughs when q grouses out the killing curse. like q would ever say please when he's so used to eliot giving him whatever he asks. that's all the more reason he keeps his hand high, well out of quentin's reach.

until the fingers attack. ]

Shit-- [ he yelps, jerking his hand back against his body and stepping back. the involuntary laughter comes as usual, that being the nature of tickling, but eliot still manages to snap back to the side so that quentin still can't get to the knob. ]

That's cheating!

You're cheating! You're tall, that counts as cheating!

[And eyeing Eliot, it would be so easy to just launch himself at him, climb him like a tree and get the damn knob. Especially when Eliot has that easy smile on his face, the one that Quentin's been missing for months and only ever really noticed how often it was aimed at him, when it suddenly wasn't anymore.

Fingers out, he stalks close, grinning wickedly- or, you know, a little sappy and a lot smirking. But.]

Give it, or-- I'm going to tickle you again and not stop until I get what I want.

Jesus-- [ he laughs and ducks away, shaking his head. he almost wants to keep going, just so he can get the final word. but there's an itch in the back of his mind, a feeling from a memory that isn't really his where he knows that wouldn't end with anything that's publicly appropriate. it's also out of bounds, so even as much as he kind of wants to indulge that itch, he knows he needs to back off. ]

Okay, fine. Take it, you ungrateful nerd!

[ he holds it out for q, keeping his body back at a protective distance. ]

You're just so--

[Puffing his cheeks out, Quentin smiles back and steps in close again, fingers ready just in case Eliot even thinks about pulling away again. Slowly, very slowly he reaches out to grab it, not really noticing how close they're standing already. Because, well, Eliot. And the knob that he needs. So focused.]

Are you done?

I dunno, are you going to say thank you?

[ and that's what it's dependent on. he's definitely ready to make a last ditch effort and die on that hill in front of everyone.

worth it, if it makes q smile. ]

Just what am I thanking you for? Cheating?

[Still not moving, nah ah.

And Quentin's fingers are just wriggling in front of Eliot's face like a not-very scary threat.]

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'CAUSE I'M BROKEN

eliot waugh | ota

Quentin Coldwater | ota

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aziraphale | ota

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